Threaded By Heart, Woven By Win... Poem by WIN VENTURA

In the hush of a quiet dawn,
Fingers dance where dreams are drawn.
Yarn in loop, a soulful trace,
Every stitch a warm embrace.

Bags are born from silent song,
Of patient hands that move along.
Colours whisper, threads unite,
Soft rebellions in the light.

No pattern can bind this soul,
Crochet is where I feel whole.
In hook and twist, I mend my day,
Tangled thoughts get pulled away.

I weave my thoughts in cotton skeins,
In bags that hold both joy and pain.
Each knot, a story, old or new,
Crochet dreams in every hue.

Bags and blooms, and scarves that flow,
Soft secrets only yarn can know.
My soul unwinds, one row, one line
A woven world, a thread divine.

Each piece I make, I leave a sign—
Of love, of fight, of threads divine.
Not just a craft, it's who I am,
WIN VENTURA, heart and hand.

✍🏽 By: - WIN VENTURA